Rise of the Zombie Rabbit Page 3

  “You’re awesome, Joe!” Toby whispered, then he ducked back into his room before Dad could scold him, too.

  “So, what do we do now?” Fluffy was already waiting in his room, sitting on his bedside table next to the clock.

  “Nothing!” Joe replied, flicking off his shoes and hoping one might accidentally bop Fluffy on the head. “I’m not going out again.”

  “But you have to! Look at the clock, Joe. We’ve got less than nineteen hours left—every second counts! You’ve got to help me find that necklace.”

  “No!” This time Joe deliberately flung a sock at the rabbit, but she ducked. “Get lost!” he growled. “I’ve had enough of you . . . and your problems.” He pulled on his pajamas and crawled into bed.

  Fluffy glared silently at him for a few minutes, then she sat back on her large hind legs and began cleaning herself, sending clumps of fur flying. It made the room look like a blizzard.

  “Stop that!” Joe spluttered. The fluff was getting up his nose and into his throat. He coughed a few times and spat out some hair.

  “Help me, Joe!” said Fluffy. “Please . . . ? Now!”

  “No!” Joe dived under the covers. “GO AWAY!” he yelled.

  Joe waited a few moments, then peeked out from under the comforter. The rabbit had gone. But her fur hadn’t. Joe got out of bed and opened the window, hoping some might blow away. Then he dived back under his covers.

  DING-DONG! DING-DONG!

  Joe opened his eyes and groaned. His throat was dry, and his hand throbbed where Fluffy had clawed him. He glanced at his clock. It was six in the morning.

  DING-DONG!

  Joe frowned. Who was ringing the doorbell at this hour? And then suddenly it hit him. The community tag sale! He was supposed to be helping Matt and his mom.

  He jumped out of bed and yanked open the curtains. Outside, he could see Matt’s mom in her car, waving up at him.

  DING-DONG! DING-DONG! Matt was ringing the doorbell again.

  “Pants!” muttered Joe. He turned to get dressed and stepped straight into a pile of slimy rabbit plops. “Ugh!” He grimaced.

  “Joe?” His mom appeared at the bedroom door.

  Joe panicked, wondering how he was going to explain the rabbit droppings all over the bedroom floor. Then he remembered that only he could see them.

  “I’d forgotten about the—” His mom sneezed “—tag sale! Matt and his mom are here already!” She sneezed another six times, sounding like a steam train setting off from a station. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she added.

  “Maybe it was Smartie, the twins’ dog,” said Joe, pulling on a sweatshirt. “I was petting her a bit at the show. Maybe some dog hairs got stuck on my clothes.”

  “Where do you think you’re going?” snapped Dad, who had appeared in the doorway next to Mom. “You’re grounded, remember!”

  “But it’s the big tag sale!” squeaked Joe. “Matt and I are helping out, remember . . .”

  “I don’t care,” said Dad. “After last night’s nonsense, you’re not going anywhere!”

  DING-DONG! DING-DONG!

  “I’ll get the door!” called Toby, who’d appeared at the top of the stairs in his pajamas.

  “Tell them Joe’s not coming!” said Dad as Toby dashed downstairs.

  “But it’s not Stephanie’s fault,” Mom said to Dad. She was good friends with Matt’s mom, Stephanie. “When I saw her at the show last night, she mentioned how grateful she is that Joe and Matt are helping her.”

  “And Matt and I have been sorting out loads of our old stuff to sell,” added Joe with a pleading look on his face. “Please, Dad.”

  “I think we should let him go,” said Mom, pinching her nose to try and stop the sneezing.

  Dad frowned. “Fine. But don’t think you’re off the hook, Joe. Not by any means.”

  Joe nodded.

  “Grab a juice box and some fruit for the car,” called Mom as Joe raced down the stairs.

  “Hi,” he said to Matt, who was standing on the doorstep. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  As soon as he went into the kitchen, Fluffy appeared.

  “At last! Are you coming outside to help me look for the necklace?” she squeaked, her ears twitching. “I’ve been looking all night, but I still haven’t found it. I need your help!”

  Joe shook his head. He grabbed an apple and took a bite out of it, then shoved a juice box into his pocket. “Matt and I are doing a tag sale this morning,” he said, taking another bite.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I’d forgotten about it,” he whispered, so Matt wouldn’t hear. “But I’ll be back by lunchtime.”

  Fluffy glanced at the kitchen clock. It was 6:15 a.m. “But we’ve got less than twelve hours! How am I supposed to find the necklace by myself?”

  “Maybe it’s not there,” said Joe, taking another bite of apple. “Maybe a hedgehog ate it! Or a bird flew off with it!”

  “No! It’s there, I saw her lose it! We just have to find it,” said Fluffy. “Olivia will be in big trouble if we don’t.”

  “What? Like the trouble I got into last night?” Joe rolled his eyes. “Well, if she does get into trouble, she’ll survive. And anyway—that’s what she gets for stealing her sister’s stuff!”

  “She didn’t steal it, she borrowed it!”

  “Come on, Joe!” Matt called from the hall.

  Joe stepped over Fluffy and headed out of the kitchen.

  But Fluffy hopped after him. “If you don’t help me, I’ll haunt you forever!”

  Joe paused. He could do without a lifetime of zombie-rabbit poop in his bedroom. Not to mention his mom’s constant sneezing. What sort of chaos could Fluffy cause if she came to school with him every day? But there was no time to help her now.

  “There you are, Joe,” said his mom, who was talking to Matt in the hall. “Hurry up! Don’t keep Stephanie waiting any longer.”

  Joe picked up one of the cardboard boxes full of stuff to sell and Matt picked up the other.

  While Matt headed off to the car, Joe’s mom reached over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I wish I was coming, too! I love all the things you can find at tag sales!”

  Suddenly Joe had an idea. As he headed outside, he beckoned Fluffy to follow him. “Bye, Mom,” he called.

  Halfway to the car, he crouched down and pretended to retie his shoelace. “Listen, Fluffy,” he whispered. “Why don’t we see if we can find another necklace at the tag sale?”

  The rabbit sat up on her back legs, her eyes blinking and her nose twitching. “What do you mean?”

  “There’s lots of stuff at tag sales. We could find a necklace that looks just like Sally’s!”

  “Really?” Fluffy didn’t sound convinced.

  Joe shrugged. “I don’t know! But it’s worth a try.”

  “You’d better be right, Joe. Otherwise, I’m your new pet!” Fluffy’s eyes bulged and her teeth poked out in a ghastly grimace.

  Joe shivered. He definitely didn’t want to see that face every day.

  The community tag sale was in a large field just out of town. By the time they got there, there was already a long line of cars waiting to park and start selling.

  Joe was in the backseat with his boxes next to him. But he wasn’t alone. Fluffy was crouching in the backseat, her green eyes glaring up at Joe from the darkness.

  “Did you put those toy trains in?” asked Matt, leaning over from the front seat. “And the tracks they go with?”

  “No, Toby nabbed them. But I’ve got loads of old comic books. And some games, a few jigsaw puzzles, some old Halloween costumes . . .”

  “Not that old cowboy outfit!” Matt grinned. “You used to wear that to parties.”

  “Yeah—like you and that yellow fireman’s helmet! You even used
to wear it to the store.”

  “No, I didn’t!”

  “Yes, you did,” said Matt’s mom. “You thought you were a real firefighter. You were always asking if anyone needed rescuing!”

  They found a parking spot, and Joe and Matt helped Stephanie set up two long tables, one on either side of the car.

  “You boys can have that one, and I’ll put my stuff on the other,” she said. “And the things I’m selling for Grandma can sit on the trunk.”

  Fluffy sat underneath the boys’ table. “I don’t like this place,” she whispered. “It’s too busy. Too noisy! I want to go home and look for the necklace.”

  Joe ignored her.

  “You’ve got loads of CDs,” said Matt as Joe unpacked one of his boxes. He held up a CD. “What’s this one? Slumber Party Sleepy Songs!”

  “That’s Sarah’s,” said Joe, snatching the CD from his friend. “And so is that one.” He snatched another CD that Matt was waving around.

  “Brownie Campfire Tunes doesn’t sound like your thing, Joe.”

  “Sarah’s always leaving her junk in my room—there’s lots of her old stuff in here,” he added.

  People were already walking around, looking for deals.

  “How much for the comics?” asked an old couple.

  “Five bucks for all of them!” said Joe hopefully.

  They didn’t haggle. But others did.

  “Ten dollars! Take it or leave it!” said Matt as a grumpy-looking kid tried to get him to drop the price of a large box of toy cars.

  “There’s a man selling a box over there, and it’s only five bucks,” said the boy.

  “Go and buy his then!” said Joe.

  The boy made a face and handed over the ten dollars.

  “What about the necklace?” wailed Fluffy from under the table. “When are we going to see if there’s another one that looks like it?”

  Joe crouched down, pretending to retie his shoelace again. “Soon,” he whispered. “Now be quiet!”

  “What a nice toy pony!” said an older woman.

  Matt snickered. Joe’s face turned red.

  “My granddaughter would love that,” she said. “How much?”

  Joe shrugged. “A dollar?”

  A girl bought some of the CDs, and a young couple pushing a cart took a pile of jigsaw puzzles.

  As the tables began to empty, Matt’s mom suggested the boys go off to have a look around. “Just try not to come back with more junk!” she grinned. “Remember, we’re trying to get rid of it!”

  “Wait for me!” Fluffy hopped out from under the table, her eyes wide and her nose still twitching like mad.

  There were hundreds of tables to choose from. Most people sold a bunch of different things—books, CDs, children’s clothes, pots, pans, cutlery—while others seemed to specialize in something—one person had only baby clothes, and another sold bikes. One person even seemed to have nothing but ugly ornaments—brown vases, glass bowls, animal figurines . . .

  Fluffy zigzagged across the path, darting from underneath one table to the next.

  “Where are the necklaces?” she squeaked.

  But Joe was too busy looking at everything to listen to her.

  “Yuck!” said Matt as he spotted a particularly ugly pink china ballerina.

  “I can’t see anything I want,” said Joe, dodging around an exercise bike that two men were trying to fit into the backseat of their car.

  Then suddenly he saw it. “Look, Matt—over there!” Joe had spotted something that he’d always wanted . . .

  “What is it?” said Matt.

  “A metal detector!”

  “What?”

  Joe raced over and picked it up out of the box. It was black and gray with a long handle and a flat disk at the bottom. “Wow, it’s got earphones and everything.”

  “Stop wasting time!” squealed Fluffy, head-butting Joe’s ankles angrily.

  “My uncle Charlie used to have one of these,” Joe said. “He told me he used it to find arrowheads and old coins.”

  “Yeah,” said the man selling it. “It’s a great thing to have—especially if your mom loses her wedding ring. You’ll be a hero, kid!”

  Joe was examining the metal detector carefully, not paying much attention to the man. Then Joe realized what he had just said.

  He stopped and thought for a moment. A slow smile spread across his face. Of course! He could use the metal detector to find the necklace! “How much?” he asked.

  “Twenty dollars!”

  Joe pulled the money out of his pocket and counted it up carefully. “I’ve got twelve.”

  The man shook his head.

  “Want to split it?” he asked Matt.

  “Dunno . . . I’ve never thought about buying one before.”

  “Watch this,” the man said. He dropped a penny on the ground (just missing Fluffy’s nose) and turned on the metal detector. “Listen!” As he wafted it over the coin, the machine let out a loud, high-pitched whine. “You’ll be digging up gold in no time if you buy this.”

  Fluffy gave a shriek. “I don’t like that noise!”

  Matt grinned. “Awesome! I’ve only got six bucks, though.”

  “Would you take eighteen?” said Joe.

  “Okay,” the man answered with a smile.

  Just then, there was a loud chime from a clock sitting on one of the nearby tables. “Look at the time!” Fluffy squealed. “It’s already noon. We’ve only got six hours left! We’ve got to go, Joe!”

  “Want to come back to my house to try out the metal detector?” asked Matt as his mom drove them out of the field and back onto the road.

  “No!” squeaked Fluffy, who was sitting by Joe’s feet, fidgeting and hopping from one side of the car to the next.

  “I can’t,” said Joe nervously. “I’m sort of grounded . . .”

  “Why?” asked Matt.

  Joe took a deep breath. He definitely didn’t want to tell Matt that he’d been caught sneaking around his neighbor’s yard in the middle of the night—especially not after all the weird stuff that had happened during their magic act.

  “I . . . sort of . . . lost a ball in the neighbor’s yard, and went looking for it without asking.”

  “Make her drive faster!” squeaked Fluffy.

  A little cloud of zombie-rabbit fluff drifted up and tickled Joe’s nose. He sniffed and tried not to sneeze.

  “Want to come over to my house tomorrow, instead?” asked Joe. “Then we can try out the metal detector in my backyard?”

  “Sure!”

  “Maybe I should take the metal detector for now and make sure the batteries are charged,” said Joe. “Would that be okay?”

  Matt shrugged. “Sure.”

  Matt’s mom flicked on the radio—the one o’clock news was starting . . .

  Fluffy jumped onto Joe’s lap. “Come on, Joe! Only five hours left—it’s an emergency!”

  Joe felt something wet and cold dribble down his legs. He grimaced. Fluffy had just peed on him!

  As soon as Joe opened the door, Fluffy raced out of the car and scampered up the Steels’ driveway.

  Joe grabbed the metal detector and headed for his backyard. He spotted his dad doing some weeding in one of the flower beds. Sarah was there, too, lounging on the grass, reading a magazine.

  “Well, if it isn’t my baby brother, the burglar!”

  “Get lost, Sarah!” Joe shot her a scowl.

  “That’s enough, both of you!” said Dad. “Have you come to help me, Joe?”

  “Yeah,” he mumbled, casting a quick look over the Steels’ fence to see what was happening. If no one was around, maybe he could sneak over and try out the metal detector.

  “What’s that you’ve got there?” Dad straightened up from his
weeding.

  “It’s a metal detector. Matt and I bought it at the tag sale.”

  “I used to have one of those. Let me see.”

  Joe handed it over and then glanced across the fence again. He could see Mr. Steel over in his backyard.

  “I told Mr. Steel you’d be over to apologize properly when you got back,” Dad said. “You can stop by after he’s cut the grass.”

  “What?” Joe gasped. The grass! If Mr. Steel was about to mow the lawn, he’d mangle the necklace for sure!

  “And you could offer to do some work for him,” said Dad. “A couple of hours of weeding or digging should make up for last night’s nonsense!”

  Joe didn’t mind offering to help. He had bigger problems. How was he going to stop Mr. Steel from cutting the grass? He glanced over the fence again . . . “Maybe I could cut the grass for him?” he suggested.

  Dad shook his head. “You’re not old enough to use the lawnmower, Joe.”

  “Yeah, you’d probably chop off your own feet,” Sarah said with a giggle.

  “Shut up!” Joe growled.

  “Stop it, both of you!” said Dad. “There’ll be plenty of other jobs you can do, don’t worry!”

  At that moment, Mr. Steel appeared at the fence.

  “Hello, there,” he called. “Don’t suppose I could borrow your mower, could I? The mice seem to have gotten to mine!” He held up a chewed cable and grinned.

  Joe tried not to laugh. That looked like Fluffy’s work!

  “Sorry,” said Joe’s dad. “My father-in-law’s borrowed mine. I won’t get it back until next week.”

  “That’s a shame,” said Mr. Steel. “I promised Kate I’d get the yard under control today!”

  “We can always try replacing the cable,” said Dad. “I had to do it to ours once before. I think I’ve still got a spare in the garage. Want to come over and take a look?”

  “That would be great, thanks. It looks like I won’t have time to do the weeding, at this rate.”

  “I could do it!” said Joe.